My Next Girl
by BelleLee
Summary: This was a one shot song fic. but my awesome reviewers convinced me to turn it into a song fic series.It's rated T for implied adult situations and because i'm kinda paranoid about stuff like. Rigsby / VanPelt, Rigspelt etc. Please R
1. Chapter 1

**Just a short one shot I thought of while I was listening to The Black Keys album Brother. It's a great CD and a most of the songs on it remind me in one way or another of the characters on my favorite show.**

**Disclaimer: The Mentalist, The Black Keys and their song lyrics aren't mine I'm just borrowing them for my and hopefully your entertainment. **

He sat at his desk trying to concentrate on the case paper work in front of him but she kept distracting him. It wasn't intentional, she wasn't trying to, couldn't help it. It wasn't her fault her hair was the color of sunlight shining through fine wine or that the little sighs of frustration she made while working were the same as the ones she made in bed when she was first waking up.

She didn't know that every time she tossed her hair over her shoulder her scent drifted towards him, so clean and sweet like spring time or sun shine and apples, or what that smell did to him. What it made him remember. So he tried to think of other things, other women.

_**Oh my next girl will be nothing like my ex-girl.**_

_**I made mistakes back then; I'll never do it again.**_

There was Amber the petite but curvy blonde from last week. She was blue eyed and had looks like a porcelain doll but she cursed like a sailor. Her perfume wasn't sweet it was seductive like night blooming jasmine and for the few hours she had occupied his body he'd been able to stop the thoughts of the red head that constantly occupied his mind.

_**My next girl she'll be nothing like my ex-girl.**_

_**It was a painful dance now I've got a second chance.**_

This week it was Vanessa, a slender hazel eyed brunette. She was a short haired pixie that moved like a dancer and smelled of freesia. She was a yoga instructor and he wondered if she was as flexible as her profession implied.

_**A beautiful face and a wicked way and I'm paying for her beautiful face every day.**_

_**All that work over so much time if I, if I think to hard I might lose my mind.**_

For next week he thought the woman he'd seen at his gym would do. He didn't know her name yet, It didn't matter. She had the height he liked in a woman, a smooth toned build. A swimmer's body. But most important she was different. Her hair was long but it was dark, the color of midnight on a moonless night, and it was curly. Her eyes are grey and her skin a golden brown. If she wasn't game then there were many others. Beautiful faces, beautiful distractions. As long as they were different, as long as they weren't like her, no sweet faced, brown eyed, red heads. Then it didn't matter what they looked like or who they were.

_**Oh my next girl will be nothing like my ex-girl.**_


	2. Chapter 2

**I've been wanting to do a little musical fic. from VanPelt's POV and Schnerb **

**(who was kind enough to read and **_**review) **cough..cough.. hint…cough****_

**suggested I extend My Next Girl (the song fic I did with My Next Girl by The Black Keys)**

**with Grace's thoughts. Awesome idea by the way, thanks. So I thought I would combine the two with a songs fic of Grace's thoughts while she covertly watches and thinks of Wayne who's covertly watching and thinking of her.**

**Blah Blah Blah… The Mentalist, its characters, Snow Patrol and the song You Could Be Happy aren't mine, Blah Blah. Don't sue me I don't have any money Blah Blah.**

**You Could Be Happy**

She sat at her desk seemingly engrossed in the words on her computer screen, but really she was watching …waiting. Every nerve attuned every sinew tense, her eyes are concentrating on her work but her body is concentrating on him. The man with the rough hands and gentle touch.

_You could be happy and I won't know_

_But you weren't happy the day I watched you go_

He was sitting at his desk as well, trying to look as busy and hard at work as she did but with less success. She could sense his tension, his anticipation; he was waiting too, both for the same thing but for different reasons. The cell phone in his pocket gave a brief chirp causing him to jump slightly as it indicated an incoming message. She watched out of the corner of her eyes as he casually reached for it. He was faking it, that suave coolness that no one who knew him would believe he was capable of and she knew him better than anyone else.

_And all the things that I wish _

_I had not said_

_Are played in loops_

_till it's madness in my head_

He gave a slight smile as he read the message, the tension leaving his shoulders. It had the opposite effect on her, her neck tingled, the breath she had taken seemed to freeze into an ice cold lump in her chest. She felt her eyes burn and prickle and tried not to think about when that smile had been reserved for her.

_Is it too late to remind you _

_how we were_

_But not our last days of silence_

_Screaming, blur_

His smile along with the look in his eyes as soft and sweet as his voice when he whispered promises and encouragement in the dark of night, it had all been hers.

_Most of what I remember_

_makes me sure _

_I should have stopped you from walking_

_Out the door_

She couldn't help but wonder who she was, what she was like. Was it the tiny brunette she had seen leaving the gym with last week as she'd walked out of yoga class? She couldn't help but picture them writhing together, his muscled body a stark contrast to her delicate beauty.

_You could be happy _

_I hope you are_

_You made me happier_

_Than I'd been by far_

It had been her decision, her choice. She knew who she was and what she wanted. So why did she feel regret at the thought of going home to an empty apartment. Memories and the old Fire Academy sweater she refused to wash the only this she had left of him.

_Somehow everything I own _

_Smells of you_

_And for the tiniest moment_

_It's all not true_

She caught his eyes as he gathered up his things to leave. She hoped the smile she gave him was enough to cover the look of pain and regret in her eyes.

_Do the things_

_that you always wanted to _

_without me there to hold you back_

_don't think, just do_

Whoever the woman was this time Grace hoped she knew how lucky she was. She hoped she appreciated him or she would have to live with the regret of giving something away before she even knew the value of what she had. Just like Grace.

_More than anything_

_I want to see you go_

_Take a glorious bite _

_out of the whole world_

**Thanks for reading. Reviews are appreciated.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hi there. This is the next installment in my Risgpelt song fic series. Sorry for the delay my kids and I all caught a cold and frankly typing and cough medicine do not mix. Alright I've got two more chapters planned for this, one more of Grace's POV and one for the ending. This may seem a little angsty and depressing but don't worry this couple is 'gonna have a happy ending if I have to kidnap and hold them hostage (metaphorically of course)**

**The Mentalist it's character and the song Happier by A Fine Frenzy are not mine but I do own a vintage 1997 Isuzu Trooper and by vintage I mean it doesn't run.**

**Pull the trigger, I'll be happier**

He looks at her infrequently not because his eyes are any less drawn to her but because it depresses him and makes her (and everyone else) uncomfortable. Physical contact is even rarer and only if it's unavoidable.

_**Quick kid quips, so harsh and cynical**_

_**Touches stricken cold and clinical**_

_**What a transformation to behold**_

_**But I don't like this new, I want the old**_

He steps around her when she blocks the refrigerator, stands on the other side of the elevator; their own little awkward dance. There's no more teasing, no banter both afraid if they let go of their control their frustrations will boil over and they'll use something personal, something from _before. _He can't help but compare the current stilted professionalism with the teasing smiles, ready laughter and stolen touches of a few months ago. Before they'd been given a choice, before he'd told her he loved her more than the job more than _anything_. Before she had chosen the job, before she'd broken his heart.

_**It's not the words that make it final**_

_**You've said such words before to rival them**_

_**But it's how you say 'em now that's changed**_

_**Cold but sympathetic all the same**_

She'd given him reason's (excuses) claimed it was for his own good. He wouldn't have to leave his friends; she didn't want him to resent her. Like her saving him from some imaginary future feeling could make up for the pain of her rejection. It wasn't the first time he'd been rejected, been considered not good enough "_Oh Wayne he's all muscle, no brains_" "_That big dumb oaf."_ It had hurt but never like this, maybe because it had never been someone he trusted, someone he'd offered his heart to. Only to have it tossed back because it wasn't the job, his love wasn't enough, _he_ wasn't enough.

_**You'd like to convince me that I'll be better off**_

_**So you go on and I'll be happier, I'll be happier**_

_**You go on, yeah, you go on**_

_**You'll be gone and I'll be happier**_

He's tired of feeling unwanted, rejected. So he changes, works out more, dresses better, acts smoother. He goes to bars and night clubs, dark places where the drinks flow, he smirks and the women flirt. It's easy to act cool when you really don't care.

_**Shoot me with your rubber bullets**_

_**Your fingers on the trigger, pull it**_

_**I know you want this suffering to end**_

_**And so it is forgivable my friend**_

He chats them up, brings them back to his place. They stroke his ego (and sometimes more) but this is not him and they are not her and he wonders how long he can keep up the act.

_**All to convince me that I'll be better off**_

_**So you go on and I'll be happier **_

_**You go on and I'll be happier**_

_**You go on, yeah, you go on**_

_**You'll be gone and I'll be happier**_

'Til one day he gets a call from one of _them _at work, to tell the truth he barely remembers what the woman looked like but he'll never forget the flash of pain in _her_ eyes and the smile she tries to cover it with. "You've moved on, I'm glad, so have I," She says it like she wants to mean it, like she thinks he want to hear it.

_**Say what you mean, what you mean**_

_**Is you'll be happier without me**_

_**Without me, without me**_

The words hurt but by now they shouldn't. So he goes out to get his mind off her and him and us and them. "No," he thinks "there is no more us, just them." "There's me and then there's her and occasionally one of _them, _but no me & her, no us."

_**You won't convince me that I'll be better off**_

_**So you go on and I'll be happier**_

_**I'll be happier, you go on, you go**_

He goes out. Tries to forget that brief glimpse of pain in her eyes and the brief flare of pleasure it gave him. He knows it shouldn't make him happy, her pain, but he can't help but feel a bit of satisfaction at the thought that she may be hurting, even if it's only a tenth of what he feels. It reminds him of his father. Reminds him he'd sworn to never intentionally hurt the ones he loves. So he tries to forget, her pain, his guilt.

He wakes up to a ragging hangover, with a stranger in a strange bed. And as he lay's there he realizes this isn't him and this isn't working because every time he hurts her it hurts him worse. He told her the truth when he told her he loved her more than the job, more than anything. He wants her to be happy because her happiness is his. And if it takes him moving on, really moving on, to make her happy it's what he'll do.

_**You'll be gone and I'll be gone**_

_**You go on and I'll be happier**_

_**You go on and I'll be happier**_

_**You go on, you go on**_

_**You go on and I'll go on and I'll be happier**_

There are no more nights in bars and night clubs instead its trips to the bookstore and jogging in the park. That's where he meets her, he runs right into her as he rounds a shrub covered corner. Her name is Evangeline, she likes that he calls her Evie. She's petite with blonde hair and big cornflower blue eyes. She teaches elementary school and loves to go hiking. She never tries to force feed him vegetables and is understanding about his erratic work schedule. Guns scare her, she doesn't know how to use them, has never even held one. She thinks he's brave, a hero for what he does, she would never smack him in the head for not wearing his vest.

At work one morning Jane comments on how he looks more settled, content and adds, "she must be a sweet girl." He tries not to look at Grace until she asks "When do we get to meet her?" Before he can think up a response Jane says "You should have her pick you up here for your date tonight," "Where are you going? Dinner? No, the theater." "A show at the art museum," he says, knowing Jane won't give up until he gets a response " "An art show, Wow, you must really like her," adds Cho. He tries to think of an excuse any excuse but their curious stares and the shy smile on Grace's face have him saying, "I'll give her a call." She's happy to pick him up, to finally meet the friends he works with. They all chat for a few minutes everyone's kind and polite even Jane. Evie heads for the elevator while he grabs his stuff; just as he's walking away he's stopped by a soft hand on his arm, he turns and looks at Grace, "She is sweet, Wayne," she says with a soft smile on her face.

It's that smile that he thinks of in the middle of the night as he lays next to his sleeping girlfriend."I've moved on, I'm happy," He keeps repeating in his head. He'll keep repeating it until he believes it and if he believes it maybe she will to and if she believes it she'll be happy and if she's happy so is he.

_**You go on and I'll be happier**_

_**You go on and I'll be happier**_

_**You go on and I'll be happier**_

**Alright I write you read and review. Please.**

**-P**


	4. Chapter 4

**Whew I finally finished this chapter. One more to go. I'm not crazy about how it turned out but it's how I felt at the moment and where the song took me, so there you go. This is longer than the other chapters in the series, I think because this song is kind of short my brain tried to make up for it by making the written stuff longer.**

**Disclaimer: The Mentalist, its characters and the song Corner of Your Heart by Ingrid Michaelson aren't mine, I'm just borrowing them.**

**Sleeping in the Corner of Your Heart**

He's stopped watching her; she should be relieved, to not have to feel his eyes burning a trail of guilt on her skin, like a puppy whose tail you've stepped on. Instead it hurts, makes her feel like she's lost something precious, like for every little piece of his heart he's taking back he's stealing another piece of hers. But this is what she wanted, what she told him she wanted, for him to move on, so she can't complain now that she's gotten it. He starts changing, his clothes are different, his body harder more muscled, he's wearing different cologne, he's going to bars and nightclubs after work, she hears him invite Cho and occasionally Jane to go out with him. Then comes the moment she's been dreading, he gets a call, a call from a woman. She hopes her smile and her softly spoken "You've moved on? Good. So Have I," masks the hurt she feels.

**There's a corner of your heart for me**

**There's a corner of your heart**

**just for me**

**I will pack my bags just to stay in the corner of your heart**

**Just to stay in the corner of your heart**

She wants to cry, wants to scream. Instead she tries to act like she doesn't care, like she doesn't feel as if she's just been stabbed, like she's happy for him. His guilty look and the sadness in his eyes when she says she's moved on too make her feel better. This woman may get his body and his attention but Grace still has the best part of him, the most important part, his heart. She comforts herself with this thought in the coming weeks. Then he changes again, there are no more invitations for Cho and Jane to go out after work, no more calls from strange women, he goes back to his old cologne. She doesn't think too much of it until Jane says "She must be a sweet girl." She says what's expected of her "When do we get to meet her?" He looks at her, the guilt is still in his eyes but it's faded, less pronounced and tempered with sympathy instead of pain. She manages a small smile. Her ears buzz; she hears the rest of the conversation in snatches and as if from a distance "where are you going?" "Art museum." "You must really like her." He calls her, she's coming. She's beautiful, she sweet, she teaches, loves children. Grace wonders if she's ever held him while he talks about his father and cries. Ever shown up at his apartment after midnight wearing scraps of lace and silk, a trench coat thrown over, hiding the present underneath. Has she ever slipped a tiny pair of panties into his coat pocket at dinner to show him what he has to look forward to when he gets home? She briefly wonders if he still has those lace panties, are they stuffed in a drawer, in the farthest corner of his closet or maybe under his mattress. Grace wants to hate her but can't. She is what he deserves, what Grace wishes she could be for him.

**There is room beneath your bed for me**

**There is room beneath your bed**

**just for me**

**I will leave this town **

**just to sleep underneath your bed**

**Just to sleep underneath your bed**

The night she picks him up at work Grace goes home, she wants to cry, but instead goes to her wallet finds the scrap of paper with the phone number on it and dials. She met him at a coffee shop, she'd spilled her coffee on his shoes, she blushed and apologized, he'd laughed told her he'd forgive her if she's take his phone number. She hadn't planned on calling him.

They've been dating for two months. Adam is perfect; he's a lawyer, good looking, successful, and as devoted to his job as Grace is to hers. He respects her career choices, is proud of what she does, he never complains about the long hours, cancelled dates and trips out of town. He's everything she wanted so she wonders why she feels empty as she sleeps next to him at night. Wonders why she doesn't get the feeling of satisfaction from closing cases like she used to.

**There's one minute of you day **

**There's one minute of your day**

**There's one minute of your day for me**

**I would leave this man just to occupy one minute of your day**

**Just to occupy one minute of your day**

He remembers their three month anniversary, sends her roses at work. She wonders how she could have forgotten. Yet she remembers to the second the day she left _him_. She (It's easier if she doesn't think of her by name) came to pick him up for a date. She's bubbly, happy they're celebrating; she's been offered a job as the principle of a small Montessori School in San Diego. Jane asks so Grace doesn't have to "So are you going to try to do long distance or are you planning on going to Wayne?" She answers before he can "We haven't finalized our plans yet." Grace knows this is another moment she'll never forget, the day she lost the last little piece of his heart and he broke what was left of hers.

**Just to sleep underneath you bed**

**Just to stay in the corner of your heart**

It's after ten; she's still at her desk, she told Adam she had to work late. She knows she'd never have made it through a whole anniversary dinner pretending to be happy. The elevator door dings and he walks into the bullpen, he looks sad, tired. For the first time in months they stare into each other's eyes. "It's over," he says. "I told her I couldn't leave my job, my life here. She's a good woman she deserves someone who loves her more than I can." "Besides," he adds "I would miss you guys if I left." She stands, shocked and he turns to walk away when she doesn't respond. The spell of stillness on her breaks, she hurries after him saying his name "Wayne?" He turns immediately and standing so close to him she sees it, maybe it's been there the whole time and she's been too busy wallowing in her pain and regrets to see it. In his eyes there's hope and hidden but still there, love. There are tears in her eyes but she's smiling when she says "I would miss you too." He freezes for second and then it's there on his face, a smile and it's brighter than the sun.


	5. Chapter 5

**Hey there. Sorry it took so long to get this up, I rewrote it three times. I'm still not sure about it but I hope you guys like it. It's a lot longer and fluffier than the other chapters in the series but honestly I could probably write an entire book about this subject. I want to thank Schnerb, Rigspelt Shipper, versa333, xxAndy-Erinxx, Jisbon-sessed and IncognitoWriter for their very kind reviews throughout this series. **

**Disclaimer: The Mentalist, it's characters, and the song The Dress Looks Nice on You by Sufjan Stevens aren't mine I'm just borrowing them for my amateur scribblings. **

**Nice Dress**

He's waiting; it feels like he's been waiting forever but really it hasn't been more than a few hours since they'd talked on the phone this morning, over three years since he met her, a year since they stood in the bull pen and smiled at each other and his whole life for someone like her. "_Shouldn't they be here by now? Maybe something happened while they were on the way? Was she as nervous as he was? She hadn't changed her mind, had she?"_ He stares at the big double doors, shuffles his feet, fiddles with his shirt cuffs when he starts to pulling at his tie he gets an elbow in the ribs from Cho, "If you mess that up I'm not fixing it again." On the other side of Cho, Jane snickers, but the look he gives Rigsby is one of understanding, he's been there before. He's not sure how much more waiting he can take. Then the doors slowly open, the music changes, the small crowd gathered quiets down, turning as one to watch as a petite brunette woman in a burgundy silk dress and holding a small bouquet of cream roses in her hand steps into the aisle. She walks slowly to stand facing them and its Wayne's turn to smirk at the surprised inhale of breath and dumbfounded expression on his blonde friends face but the smile slides off his face and his mouth drops open as he catches sight of _her_ slowly walking in.

**I can see a lot of life in you.  
I can see a lot of bright in you.  
And I think the dress looks nice on you.  
I can see a lot of life in you.**

Her titan (he'd found the word in the thesaurus one day when he decided RED just wasn't good enough to describe the color of her hair) hair tumbles around her shoulders in curls, "_she worn it down like I asked_" the creamy lace veil only partially covering it before cascading down her back. The ivory silk of her dress (she'd insisted on not wearing white, he told her she could wear a potato sack for all he cared) molded to her upper body before falling gracefully to her feet in an A line but clung to her long legs with every step. The luster and subtle gold tone of the silk, her brilliant hair and the happy smile on her face combined to make her glow as if heaven itself were pointing a beacon at his future. She walks towards him and he forgets everything else, the music, the people, the time he'd spent waiting and the ten feet of aisle separating them. His last thought is "_she's dazzling, radiant, exquisite_" (he'd spent some time with that thesaurus) and then she was there if front of him and he says the first thing that comes to mind, "Nice dress."

****

**I can see a bed and make it too.  
I can see a fireside turn blue.  
And I can see the lot of life in you.  
Yes, I can see a lot of life in you.**

She walks towards him and can't help but think "_finally_". If someone told her a little over a year ago that she would be here in this moment with this man she would have laughed in their face. If Patrick Jane himself had announced it, well okay if Jane had said it she _might_ have thought it was a possibility. It had been a year since he'd walked back into the bull pen and announced that he'd broken it off with Evie and smiled brightly when she said she'd miss him. Later that night she'd asked him why, the real reason why he couldn't leave, "she's perfect" Grace had said, "Yes she is" Wayne replied "well almost, anyway there's one very important thing wrong with her." Grace had thought but as hard as she'd tried to dislike her, she couldn't think of a single flaw the other woman had, "What?" she'd asked. He'd said simply "She wasn't you." It was at that moment that Grace decided Come hell or Hightower she would not give him up. She knew who she was and she was realizing that without him she was only half a person, she needed him to feel whole, to feel complete.

**When the world looks back,  
when the face looks after that,  
I can see a lot of life in you.  
Yes, I can see a lot of life in you.  
**

Grace sat at white damask covered table, aching feet propped on the chair opposite her, watching people twirl by on the dance floor. She reflected over the last year and all the changes it had brought.

After her confession to Wayne and their long talk in the bullpen, she had gone home. They hadn't done more than hug and he hadn't treated her as more than a friend but she'd know and the next day she broken up with Steve. They had spent the next three months taking it slow, earning places back in each other's lives both loath to make the first move, both afraid to lose each other again.

**I can see a lot of life in you.  
I can see your bed and make it too.  
And I think the dress looks nice on you**

Then had come a call, a lead on Red John. Jane had, predictably, gone off half cocked, Lisbon close behind and the rest of the team following. The abandoned old warehouse looked like something out of a horror film, complete with monster waiting inside. Wayne and Cho had gone in. It took a direct order from Lisbon and Wayne begging but Grace found herself waiting outside to brief the back up team when they arrived.

Red John wasn't expecting them but had still been prepared, with the cameras he'd had in place he'd seen them coming. He cut the lights, using the darkness to separate and disorient them. Grace jumped when she saw the lights inside go out, but hesitated, the ETA of backup was still 10 min. away. When she heard the gun shots 5 min. later there had been no hesitation, she'd run in, praying the whole time.

Wayne had run in his eyes widening at the sight of his boss a knife pressed to her throat by a psycho and Jane a gun held in his shaking hands pointing at them both. But Red John, so busy taunting Jane, missed the sight of Cho sneaking up in the shadows. Still, no one had a clear shot; they couldn't hit Red John without going through Lisbon. Wayne watched in horror as his boss gave the signal to shoot, Cho shook his head no, Lisbon stared, it was clearly an order. Cho's eyes briefly closed, finger slowly tightening on the trigger. And just like the time he'd run into a burning barn Wayne had just, reacted. He dove at Lisbon, covering her petite body with his larger one. Cho's shots missed them but Red John's knife didn't, with two quick stabs the killer had managed to nick his kidney and then bury itself next to his liver.

Grace ran in to a sight that still gave her nightmares. Wayne on the floor, a knife still sticking out of him while Lisbon tried to keep pressure on his other wound and blood, everywhere, spreading across the floor like the incoming tide. Most of it was Red John's, at the time she hadn't known, her only thought was "I'm going to lose him."

A month later Wayne was released from the hospital and (after practicing in the mirror to make sure he could get back up on his own) he'd gone down on one knee. He'd been waiting long enough and he'd almost lost her, he wasn't taking any more chances with their happiness. Grace had laughed it was ridiculous, they weren't even officially dating. She'd said yes. A month after that, his first week back at work Wayne had walked into Hightower's office and announced their engagement and that he was leaving. Five minutes after that Patrick Jane arrived, if Wayne or Grace had to leave so would he. A minute later Lisbon arrived and then Cho until Hightower had her entire Serious Crimes unit facing her. It was all of them or none of them; they had seen too much death and sadness, been through too much together to be split up. A compromise was reached; officially Grace was with Cyber Crimes but really they were still together, still a team, still a family.

Three months passed full of wedding talk and laughter, so much laughter. The day to day stuff hadn't changed but they had, Wayne was more confident, Grace contented, no longer constantly feeling like she had to prove herself, Jane was still there but his pranks had gone from borderline insane to mostly mischievous, Lisbon stopped being irritated by his pranks and started laughing at them, well most of them and even Cho occasionally cracked a smile.

Two months later there was another case and another trip to the hospital. This time it was Grace, a push from a suspect had her stumbling and hitting her head, at Wayne's insistence she was being checked for a concussion. There was no concussion but she had other news. She was excited but also disappointed, she was at heart a rather traditional girl, she'd wanted the big wedding with her parents, friends and family there and she'd also wanted the children, preferably _after_ the wedding. "_Well it looks like I can have one or the other_," she'd thought and smiling had gone to give the father the news.

Wayne had been ecstatic. He hadn't thought anything could make his life happier, more complete than it already was or could make him love Grace more, he was wrong, he'd found the one thing that could, he was going to be a father. They decided to move up the date of the wedding and to have a smaller ceremony. Wayne had welcomed the change; the sooner he made Grace officially his the better as far as he was concerned but he had seen the hint of disappointment in her face. When she'd given him the news he'd promised her he'd do everything in his power to keep her and his child happy and he wasn't about to break his promise. It took two months of planning, Cho doing research on the best wedding places in California, Lisbon issuing orders to caterers and florists like a general instead of a special agent, Jane calling in several favors and connections from his old show biz days and Wayne running all the plans by Grace and threatening to tie her down if she lifted a finger to actually do anything herself. Grace had chafed at their concern but she understood, their baby represented a second chance the hope that no matter how bad things can seem they can always change for the better and no one wanted to risk that. He or she was also the first Serious Crimes Unit baby, although as Wayne had said "Maybe the first one but probably not the last one judging by how Jane's been looking at Boss."All their work had paid off and Grace had gotten a beautiful wedding complete with church ceremony, her father walking her down the aisle and a ballroom reception, all before she'd even started to show.

Grace was brought back from her memories by the sight of Wayne "_my husband,_" (the thought made her smile every time) walking towards her through the crowd. He stopped in front of her and held out his hand. She looked into his eyes and in them she saw it all, they had found themselves, who they were and they'd found home.

They smiled at each other and hand in hand walk out on to the dance floor and the rest of their lives together.

**Yes, I can see a lot of life in you.  
I can see a lot of life in you.  
Yes, I can see a lot of life in you  
**

**To fluffy? Tell me what you think. If you read please review. If you didn't read review and tell me how awesome it is anyway ;)**


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